


where we're going from here

by studiokid



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depression, Insecurity, M/M, Poetry, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, dual suicide, this is a vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5980672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/studiokid/pseuds/studiokid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>--he wants to die young and filled with the ocean, <br/>    violent crashing waves that engulf his lungs <br/>    and yamaguchi's fingerprints burned on every inch of his body. --</p>
            </blockquote>





	where we're going from here

**Author's Note:**

> okay i've had this written for possibly over a year now and i've overlooked it so many times i figured i should probably just post it already so.

he feels so utterly useless, sometimes,  
that he's not sure why he tries to put in  
any effort. 

he watches his friends-- no,   
teammates,   
excel with fervor. 

the team speeds ahead, like a bullet train,  
which shakes some passengers  
when moving at its incredible pace

even tsukishima moves forward, taking big steps that fit his long legs  
and he never waits for anything,   
so it's only sensible that he wouldn't wait for tadashi.

tadashi is the straggler,   
he doesn't fit in.   
he has never, not even with tsukishima,  
he thinks

because there's a difference between   
friendship and  
co-dependency 

they're not friends, his team.   
tsukishima,   
probably isn't one either.

\--

tsukishima makes him unravel   
in so many strange ways  
that leaves tadashi stumbling dazedly 

tsukishima is everything tadashi is not,   
it's frustrating to stand next  
to someone   
you'll only pale in comparison to

because tsukishima   
is radiant;  
a lionheart

he's razor sharp edges and   
softness like downy feathers  
in all the right places

he's confusing, no doubt  
stubborn and rude,   
it's impossible to understand tsukishima   
even after all these years  
and more often than not tadashi questions if he's happy he met tsukishima 

or if they'd be better off alone

the thought of separation nauseates him  
even if he knows he's not good for tsukishima 

he knows that he only holds people back;  
tsukishima is probably   
the most relevant to that fact.

(maybe tsukishima isn't good for him, either, tadashi thinks

as the blond's shirt rides up during practice and when a dribble of water trails out of the corner of his lips  
when he sips from his drink

yeah, tadashi decides. definitely not good for him.)

\-- 

once, he wraps his neck in bandages.   
half of his face has bandaids too. 

"you look like a mummy!" hinata giggles.

"I've got a rash," he says simply in reply,  
but kei knows better than that. 

he knows about the scabs that form after yamaguchi has scratched the hollow of throat, the ones on his cheeks that mare soft tan skin. 

he knows everything about yamaguchi

he knows the exact count of all his freckles;   
traces constellations in his head  
of the memorized skin

even his eyelashes, he knows the numbers, which are uneven   
because he has 153 on his right eye,  
and 177 on his left. 

\--

later, tadashi has the common sense to hide it.   
he doesn't to stop doing it, but better well hidden than obvious he figures

he stops picking the scabs   
and instead cutting the top of his smooth thighs. 

they bleed more than the shallow cuts he made before, much more   
and he has blood soaked hands   
afterwards. 

he washes his hands,   
once, twice,  
seven times,   
but the blood won't leave his mind

it won't leave his clothes either--   
he throws a comfortable sweater out  
immediately after.   
"Be cleaner next time,"   
he whispers to himself,  
because there's always a next time. 

\--

they sting and burn when he practices, but he's glad for that.   
the pain helps   
slide through the numbness left behind,  
picks him away from the tiredness   
of a restless sleep

it's too far up his skin for anyone to notice when they practice,   
too far up his skin to notice when they change in the clubroom 

but it's not like anyone notices him, so there's no point in worrying.

\--

(kei notices it though. he notices everything about yamaguchi, it's become second nature   
to check on him.

it's like breathing, or drinking water,  
it's a necessity to his life  
to pay attention to every detail of yamaguchi

from his least favorite food,  
to his clothing size,   
to the fact he has to shop in the woman's  
pants side  
because the his curves can’t fit into  
anything else. 

if kei were to be honest,   
details about yamaguchi   
make details about kei too. 

yamaguchi is not good for him, kei thinks seriously as yamaguchi bends to pick up a fallen volleyball. 

no.   
not good at all.)

\--

he doesn't remember a time when he didn't fake himself

He hears ringing in his ears,   
and wonders if he  
knows his true self;   
or if he even has one.

\--

yamaguchi really cries for the first time in front of kei   
when his glass of water slips from his hands  
and shatters on the floor.

it wasn't that kei hadn't seen yamaguchi cry before,   
he did when they were young at the littlest things

but now yamaguchi weeps at the shards gathered around his feet   
because he "can't even hold a cup correctly without fucking up," 

so kei silently moves across the kitchen, sidestepping the glass   
"clean it up later," is all he says as he leads yamaguchi into the living room  
and gathers him in his arms

yamaguchi sobs, and doesn't stop until he passes out from exhaustion   
and kei finds himself at a loss   
for his best friend. 

what is he to do?   
he's supposed to be the strong one;   
the infallible one, sarcastic and witty and fearless

but he's none of that,   
he so filled with flaws   
that he wouldn't have enough skin to write   
them all on himself

he thinks "coward" is more   
befitting for someone like him  
he's weak; he knows 

and he's so startlingly scared that it   
weighs on his chest and breathing suddenly seems difficult 

he doesn't know what the right thing to do is. 

he looks at yamaguchi's sleeping face,   
and decides   
that he will take him away;

\--

beforehand kei wondered  
how he'd die someday  
and he hoped it would on his own terms, not illness or old age. 

he wants to die young and filled with the ocean,   
violent crashing waves that engulf his lungs   
and yamaguchi's fingerprints burned on every inch of his body. 

he thinks double suicide would be befitting for the two of them;  
better together that than separate, he thinks,  
because yamaguchi was going to do it. 

kei wouldn't stop him,  
he could not ever,  
but he would never live without him either. 

\--

kei gets a part time job  
and saves his earnings,   
enough for  
him and yamaguchi's train tickets,   
enough for food and   
enough to stay a night at a hotel. 

its enough;   
enough distance and enough time. 

they leave without much warning.  
the only thing left to their parents,  
is the lie they told  
about sleeping over each others house

they tell no one about the truth,  
and they'll be far away enough that it won't matter anyway  
it won't matter because of the distance   
and it won't matter because of the time

they won't be here much longer;   
they'll be no where  
there's nothing where they'll end up  
nothing at all. 

\--

yamaguchi breathes deep and slow, warm back pressing against kei's arm.   
kei watches his shoulders rise and fall  
recounts the number of freckles   
and number of eyelashes while he drifts asleep

he knows this is the last time he'll get to do this.

\--

tadashi dreams of sunflowers and green fields,  
and his fingers in tsukishima's curly, baby hair

tsukishima's skin is smooth and pale and soft  
and seems so delicate 

he looks fragile, and cold  
like a doll  
but he's warm  
incredibly warm  
like a furnace in winter

as tadashi dreams, he wonders  
if this is what heaven   
is like. 

\-- 

tadashi is shaking, all of him is moving   
and his lungs feel like lead filled them.   
he stares at the open, long drop   
five steps  
in front of him. 

the rocks under his feet crunch when he shifts, and makes him more aware than ever at his choices. 

he muses aloud how many regrets he has  
but figures there's too many to list

tsukishima smiles and agrees, eyes like honey grazing into tadashi  
and in that moment   
he feels himself melting

tsukishima grasps his hand, warm sweaty palms pressing against his own.   
they look each other, eyes reflecting stars and gloss

they breathe in sync, while tadashi wonders why he ever thought the other   
didn't care about him. 

he leans in and presses a small, chaste kiss to tadashis mouth. 

his lips are dry and hot, like a bonfire   
and he smells like wood and cinnamon. 

"One less regret," He breathes, and the blond still holds his hand when they jump. he's surrounded by warmth, as they drop lower, and lower. 

his last thoughts, while they fall and sped to the water,   
is that he hopes he's with tsukishima   
infinitely   
he hopes that he will be able to share this warmth, 

he'll chase tsukishima across   
five   
ten  
twenty   
a hundred life times  
from here,   
and all the lives after that

just to continue to have this warmth beside him.

he really is,   
glad that he met tsukishima after all.

\--  
end


End file.
